Cut From the Same Cloth
by Spense
Summary: Once a Tracy, always a Tracy. Nurture doesn't hold a candle to Nature. (More movie verse characters)
1. Chapter 1

**Cut from the Same Cloth**

**By Spense**

**Chapter One**

_**Note: Movie verse ages, just because it worked better. ~shrugs~**_

"Todd. Look at this. Hey, Todd!" Michael Bellows nudged his friend, Todd Markova, to get his attention.

Fourteen year old Todd, who had been craning his neck, looking for his father, while the two boys waited on the school steps, looked over to his friend. "What?" He said absently, looking back for the familiar car. "We're going to be late," he muttered.

"No we won't," Michael said. "Look at this. It's another article on the Tracy family. It shows all five of them." Michael leafed through the copy of People Magazine.

Todd glanced at the cover briefly. Five men, in black tuxedos adorned the cover. Jefferson Tracy, unmistakable as ever, looked immaculate in his expensive evening attire. Scott Tracy, the eldest son, was a younger version of the father. Virgil Tracy, built the same as the other two, but with auburn highlights in his dark hair, was clearly cut from the same cloth. The other two, red haired Gordon Tracy, and blond John Tracy, rounded out the group of men. These two were slim, though clearly athletic, and the resemblance to the patriarch was passing.

Todd went back to looking for the car. "So?"

"So?! What's wrong with you, Todd?" Michael said, glaring at his friend. "They're royalty, and we live in the same city as they do."

Todd made a rude noise. "Uh huh, right. Tracy Towers is a long, long way from Queens. There! There's Dad. Come on." Todd made for the car that was pulling up to the curb, dragging Michael behind him.

Falling into the car, which had barely stopped moving, the two friends landed in the backseat as Todd's dad headed out, leaving the crowded area so another car could immediately take his place.

"Hey, Boys," Thomas Markova, said over his shoulder as he maneuvered out into traffic.

"Hi, Dad!" Todd greeted his father.

"Hi, Mr. Markova," Michael said, glancing up from the magazine.

Thomas smiled, looking into the rearview mirror. "What are you reading, Michael?"

"A new article on the Tracy family. Did you know that they are all spending a couple of weeks here in New York right now? They are attending that British lady's charitable ball. "

"Seriously, dude?" Todd said in disgust. "You sound like my sister. That's all she does is moon over the Tracys. Come on, live in the real world."

Thomas laughed out loud. Tall, dark, and, swarthy, Thomas Markova was a second generation Italian. He ran the quintessential corner Italian restaurant in Queens. He and his wife, Marlana, had one natural daughter, Maria, 16, and Todd, a foster child they'd had in their home since he was 4. They were close to making his adoption formal. Todd was the odd one out in the family of dark haired, dark completed Italians, as he was fair skinned, blond haired and blue eyed.

He did have to admit, along with idolizing music groups and actors, Maria was head over heels about anything Tracy. She kept making excuses to shop downtown, hoping to run into one of the Tracy family on the street.

Michael ignored them both, and looked at his magazine, then looked at Todd, then back again. "You know, Todd, you really look like John Tracy. I mean really. Like almost identical."

Todd rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest, Mike. You've been saying that ever since you got that magazine."

Michael grunted. "No, seriously. That little kid who died when Lucy Tracy did, the youngest brother, Alan Tracy, he was blond. He'd be your same age. I bet you could pass yourself off as Alan."

Thomas burst out laughing as Todd looked completely disgusted. "You really do sound like Maria," Thomas joked. "That's the kind of story she'd come up with."

"No kidding," Todd said, in complete disgust. "The long lost heir kind of garbage. That kind of thing only happens in books."

Michael had to laugh as well. "I know, I know. But wouldn't it be cool? I mean to be the long lost son of a filthy rich family. I mean, you could have your own plane!"

This wasn't as much of a non-sequitur as it sounded, as they were turning into the private air field as they spoke. Both boys were nuts about flying, and were headed towards their weekly flying lesson.

They were running late, and, as would be the case with Murphy and his law, the small, well-appointed airport was far more crowded than usual. Todd bounced in his seat. He adored flying, and anything fast, the faster the better, car, plane or boat, was his element. However, flying was coming as naturally as breathing to him, and his family, when they'd finally given into the fact that their son was born with feathers rather than the cooking gene, had to admit he was gifted.

As he slowed near the entrance, Thomas gave in with a sigh. "I don't know what's going on here today, but Todd, you go ahead and let Mr. Adamson know that you are here while I find parking for the car. Michael can find Mr. Trask."

"OK," was the chorus of approvals. Todd and Michael bound out of the car and headed for the door.

Todd had proven to be surprisingly gifted when it came to flying, and advanced at least twice the rate of most kids, according to his teacher. Michael was learning at a more normal rate. Thus, Todd was moved to a different, more advanced program than his best friend. They quickly found Mr. Trask, and he informed Todd that Mr. Adamson was at the other end of the long terminal. Todd nodded, and took off to find his instructor, ignoring the call of his father as he had just entered from the far end of the building after finally finding parking for the car.

Todd was fast. He was on the track team at school, and loved running. He was a great cross country runner, but his favorite events in the traditional track and field events were the hurdles and the 400 and 600 meters. His adrenaline was already running as he was going to get to fly today. Anytime spent in the air was to be savored, and he could hardly wait. Knowing his father was going to admonish him to slow down, Todd developed selective hearing, and headed down the concourse at top speed.

His father's voice changed from admonishment to warning. "Todd! Watch out!"

Todd turned instinctively to look back, but as he did so, he slammed into what felt like a brick wall at top speed.

"Whoa! Slow down there, kid!" A deep voice admonished in amusement, as strong hands reached out to steady him. Todd looked up to see a man who was solidly built, and withstood him as easily as a linebacker.

The dark haired man, probably late 20s, was casually dressed, with a leather flight bag slung over his shoulder. He didn't look mad, but rather was grinning at Todd. As Todd looked up at him, and met his eyes, the man's grin faltered slightly as his eyes widened.

"S-Sorry," Todd managed to stammer, slightly shocked at his abrupt stop.

The man seemed slightly stunned as people converged on them.

"Scott, are you all right?" An older, distinguished looking, gray-haired man, with a military bearing and as fit as the dark haired man, hurried up to them. To Todd, he looked slightly familiar, but he couldn't place him. The man Todd had run into, nodded absently, not able to tear his eyes away from the teenager.

"Todd!" Thomas put his hand on his son's shoulder, catching his son's attention. "I've told you and told you to slow down!"

"Sorry, Dad," Todd said, chagrined, and looked down.

"I must apologize for my son," Thomas said, pulling Todd to him in a one armed hug. "He tends to get over enthusiastic." He looked at the identical expressions on both men's faces. They were looking at Todd as if they'd seen a ghost. He wasn't sure he liked the look. It made him uncomfortable. He hugged his son tighter to him, and looked at Todd, wanting to get his son away from these men who seemed to be so fascinated by him. "Apologize, Todd," he admonished gently.

Todd looked up at both men, and apologized. "I'm so sorry for running into you. I guess I wasn't watching where I was going," he said contritely.

"No harm done," the older man finally said with a slightly strained smile, as the younger, Scott, seemed incapable of speech.

"Thank you," Thomas said with a quick smile, then steered Todd away from the familiar seeming men. He didn't like their fixed attention on his son. "Come on, Todd, we're already late."

Todd nodded, and the two headed off down the concourse. Todd completely forgot the encounter quickly, focused instead on his upcoming lesson. Thomas, however, took a quick look back over his shoulder, as the younger man turned towards the older, saying intently, "Dad!" The older man just nodded and both turned to look after the retreating pair. Thomas looked away, and hurried his son along.

TB TB TB TB TB

The encounter stayed on Thomas's mind for long after it passed. In the car, on the way home, both boys rehashed their lessons, from pre-flight checks, to landing and post flight checks, and then discussed their homework throughout the drive. After dropping Michael off at his home, they headed towards the family restaurant, where they generally gathered in the kitchen to have their evening meal.

Thomas was lucky enough to live and work in the same building. His parents, who owned the restaurant, had moved out of the apartment above and let Thomas and Marlena have the larger dwelling, and had moved to a smaller place only a block away. But everybody gathered in the evenings to eat and catch up on the day.

As always, evenings found the restaurant to be packed, and Todd headed towards the back kitchen to greet his mother and grandparents. As he locked the car, Thomas grabbed his son's book bag with rolled eyes. His son remembered his flight bag, of course, but his school homework? Nope, that was left in the car. He also grabbed Michael's People magazine, which he'd forgotten in his haste, thinking that Maria would like it, and froze. On the cover, the Tracy family gazed back at him. Two of them, Jeff Tracy, and his elder son Scott, made him stare. They were the men that Todd had literally run into that afternoon at the airport. Thomas felt a shiver run down his spine. He didn't know why they were so interested in his son, and he had a feeling that he didn't want to. Consoling himself that it was nothing, he headed inside.

Thomas joined his family at the table. His parents were listening with interest at Todd's enthusiastic retelling of his afternoon's flying lesson, with Maria rolling her eyes. Marlena smiled at him, and gave him a quick kiss as she deposited a large pan of lasagna on the table. Dropping into his vacant seat Thomas helped himself, and grinned at his son's enthusiasm.

Marlena sat down and once Todd had to break to take a breath, she spoke. "I have some very good news," she announced. All eyes turned towards her, and the only sounds were the noises from the diners outside the main down in the restaurant proper. "We've finally gotten approval for Todd's adoption. All we have to do is provide a DNA sample, and once that is completed, Todd is officially ours."

A loud chorus of whoops around the table, and hugging all around. Thomas and Marlena looked at each other, meeting eyes across the exuberance of their family. Lucius and Nania, Thomas's parents were hugging Todd, and Maria had unbent enough to give the grinning teenager a noogie.

Thomas and Marlena had wanted a big family, but after the difficulty she'd had giving birth to Maria, they would never be able to have another natural child. They'd decided to adopt. They had taken Todd in as a foster child at age four and a half. He'd been considered a high risk child, as he didn't speak, and would throw spectacular tantrums for reasons. His behavioral problems meant he'd already been through 3 foster homes. Thomas and Marlena had decided that they would be his last. It was a difficult period. They'd changed the name he'd come with, Peter, to Todd, thinking to give him a brand new start, and were determined to adopt him. They'd started the process as soon as they'd been able.

Unfortunately, as difficult as they behavioral problems had been, the adoption process seemed to be worse. There were pitfalls at every turn. Paperwork was missing. Personnel who knew about him had quit and couldn't be found. But both Thomas and Marlena were persistent, and had determined to see this through. By the time Todd was in first grade, he'd settled, and was even finally beginning to speak. By the time he was in third grade, he was chattering a mile a minute, no longer throwing unprovoked tantrums, had Michael as a best friend, and was acting like any other normal child.

The adoption process was taking longer, but they were finally there. All the pieces were in place, and the last part, a DNA test was to be completed. Apparently Todd's DNA had been lost. The case worker assured them that this was a formality. Todd had been in the system since he was a small child, and all children were tested when they first entered the system to try to track family. Like everything else, the results had been lost, so it was just a matter of getting it back on file. They'd have his final papers in a week.

Although they'd wanted a big family, Todd had had enough behavioral difficulties that they had decided to keep their attention focused just on the two children they now had. They were more than enough. Besides, the adoption process was proving unbelievably time consuming.

Although Todd was part of their family, and had been considered their son for years, it was nice to finally make it formal. Thomas and Marlena smiled at each other in contentment, surrounded by their immediate and extended family in the family restaurant. Life was good. And it was finally complete.

TB TB TB TB TB

Jefferson Tracy successfully negotiated the maze of Tracy Towers, adroitly managing to avoid even the most tenacious of his employees as he slipped in the back way. Even that way, people managed to find him, insisting that only he could solve their problems.

Shutting his office door firmly, and making sure that he was finally alone, he sat heavily into his office chair, and ignoring the spectacular view out his window, planted his elbows on the desk, and buried his hands in his face.

_Would there ever be no end to it? _He thought. Just when he thought he was finally moving on, something like this happened. Every. Single. Time. Sighing heavily, he looked up to the pictures set at easy eye level on his desk. His four adult sons. Wonderful men, so gifted and talented. And so selfless. All were part of International Rescue, and driven by the same desire to save people that he was. That brought him to the next picture. His whole family, taken just hours before the event that changed their lives for ever.

His lovely wife, Lucy. Blond, blue eyed, fair skinned, her mirror image sons, John and Alan, Jeff, and his reflections, Scott and Virgil, and red headed Gordon, a throw back to Lucy's great grandfather. Only hours later would an avalanche take Lucy and Alan's lives. They were able to find Lucy's body, but never 3 year old Alan's. That only made it harder.

There had been rumors of somebody finding Alan alive; a witness who swore that was the case, but he'd never been found. It would have been so much easier if they had found his body.

A light tap at the door, and Jeff's assistant, Anne Marie Watkins, poked her head around. On seeing Jeff's face, she slipped in, and shut the door firmly behind her. Silently she entered the room, and sat in the chair facing the desk. Jeff's good friend, as well as his Executive Assistant, she had been with him from the beginning, and knew him better than he knew himself.

"What happened?" She asked.

Jeff smiled involuntarily. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to me."

Jeff groaned, and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face as though rubbing the incident away. "A teenager ran into Scott at the airport today. Literally. He was the spitting image of John and Lucy, and about the same age Alan would have been now."

Anne Marie caught her breath. "Oh, Jeff," she murmured in sympathy.

"I know. Both Scott and I were dumbfounded. He looked so much like what Alan would have looked like, it was uncanny."

Anne Marie knew that at some point during the aftermath, Jeff had had Alan's picture aged, trying to get an idea of what his youngest son would have looked like at each milestone age. She knew he still looked at them.

"Jeff," she began slowly, "You know . . . it isn't possible. Alan is gone. He died with Lucy."

"I know, I know." He exhaled slowly. "But it's so hard . . . not to hope."

She just nodded, and reached across to grab his hand. Jeff smiled sadly, briefly squeezed her hand, and visibly pulled himself together. Slapping his hands on the desk, he said briskly, "Okay, what's on my calendar today?" And settled down to work.

TB TB TB TB TB

Once Jeff was deeply occupied in work, Anne Marie went in search of Scott. She found him in his second office. He had an office in the Executive Suite, just like his father, but he also had another on the 15th floor, in an obscure, rarely traveled alcove, where few people ventured. No windows, nothing special, no nameplate. Just a door that was normally locked. This is where he worked when he didn't want to be interrupted. Sometimes she occasionally found Jeff there as well. Tapping lightly, she keyed the entry code and entered almost immediately.

Scott Tracy was leaning back in his chair, hands laced behind his head, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. He looked up, startled, as Anne Marie entered. Seeing the look on her face, he sat up, and gestured her to a chair. "Dad told you," he stated, no question in his statement.

"Yes. You know it can't be Alan," she said baldly. No use keeping hope alive. She periodically had to do this with all of them. She was used to it.

"I know. But it was unbelievable how much he looked like John," Scott sighed. "He even moved like him. Fast too, like he ran track. Just like John."

Anne Marie just listened, providing the only thing she could.

"His Dad was dark. Italian or Mediterranean type of dark. Swarthy almost. The kid didn't look like him at all," Scott finished with an almost hopeful note in his voice.

Anne Marie knew that the loss of Alan had been hard on all of the Tracy's, but with Alan being unplanned, (though not unwanted, never that!), he was over 7 years younger than Gordon, and Scott had taken an almost paternal role with the youngest Tracy. Alan's death had hit him hard.

"You know he could resemble his mother," Anne Marie pointed out, "Just like John and Alan did, where as you and Virgil look like Jeff. And, Gordon, well . . ."

Scott grinned in spite of himself. "Yeah, Gordie. First redhead in three generations, and the personality to go with it. Great Granddad Evans all over again. We'd all hoped those traits had died out," he finished with a laugh. "But I get your point. I know. It's just that . . ." Scott trailed off, unable to put it into words.

"He was just what you'd hoped Alan would grow up into, wasn't he?" Anne Marie said sympathetically.

"Yep," Scott agreed in resignation. "He was. He seemed to be a really nice kid. Polite. Enthusiastic."

"What was his name?" Anne Marie asked, hoping to drive her point home.

Scott looked knowingly at her. He was aware of what she was doing, and he appreciated it. It was so hard for all of them sometimes, and Anne Marie, more family than employee, kept them grounded. "Todd," he said resignedly.

"There. You see? And from what you and your father both said, it seems like his father really cared for him."

Scott actually smirked. "Oh, yeah. He sure did. He wasn't sure about why we were looking at his kid like we were, but he didn't like it. Enough that he was so focused on his concern that he didn't recognize us."

Anne Marie laughed out loud. "There you go. So let it go, Scott. It's bad enough that your father can't seem to move on, and it isn't healthy, but it's worse when it's you boys. Todd is fine, he has a father who cares about him, and he isn't Alan, so don't project, okay?"

Scott nodded. "Thanks A M."

"Your welcome. Don't stay hidden all day." She said as she got up.

"Promise," Scott said, smiling at the woman affectionately.

"Ta,ta," she said, finger tips waving through the closing door. Scott laughed again, and began to look to his email.

TB TB TB TB TB

Two weeks later Marlena got the call while she was working on the restaurants books. All the case worker would say was that they needed to come to the office. Collecting Thomas, and fending off his parents questions, they headed towards the social services office.

"Did she say anything?" Thomas asked again. He was nervous. They'd been through so much red tape on this adoption. "Maybe we're just supposed to sign the final papers."

"I don't know," Marlena said patiently, although just as concerned. "She didn't say anything. Just that we needed to come down." They sat nervously in the waiting room of the case workers office. They'd gotten to know this office well over the years.

It seemed like forever before they were shown back to Ellen's office. She looked at them sympathetically. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she said, forcing a smile.

"Well," Thomas demanded. "Is it done? Is Todd officially our son?"

Ellen looked down for a moment as they took their seats, increasing their unease. She hated what she had to do. These were such good people, and they'd been through so much with the boy that had been theirs for 10 years.

"No," she said. "There is no easy way to tell you this, but the DNA matched a missing child. His father has been looking for him for years. We've confirmed that Todd is his son."

"But," Marlena said blankly, "It was just a formality. His DNA has been searched before. There had been no match."

Thomas was just looking at Ellen with his jaw hanging open. Marlena put a hand on his knee, both for her support and to keep him calm.

"I know. There were notes in the file that a DNA search had been run, and that the results had been negative, but no test report to back it up. I needed a negative test in the file to close it. It should have been routine. I ran it three times to make sure. Each time the result came back the same. Todd is a child who has been missing for 11 years. He was presumed dead, but the father would never believe it. He's kept the DNA search active all this time. It turns out that he was right. Todd is his son."

"What are you telling us?" Thomas asked, not quite understanding all the pieces of this.

"I'm saying that the adoption can't go through," Ellen said plainly. "We have to contact the father and tell him his son is alive, and has been found."

Marlena absorbed this and burst into tears, sobbing in deep, wrenching gasps. Thomas grabbed her hand, his face filled with shock. "And then what? We can adopt him?"

Ellen said with kind sympathy, "Only if his father releases custody. And to be perfectly honest, I doubt that will happen here." She wasn't one to give hope where it was absent. "He's been hoping for a long time."

"Who is he? Can we talk to him?" Thomas asked desperately.

"I can't tell you yet. We are in the process of contacting him now. I'll see if he will speak with you," she said carefully.

"Thomas?" Marlena looked at her husband. "What do we tell Todd?"

"Nothing yet," Ellen said firmly. "Not until everything is hammered out."

TB TB TB TB TB

"Hello?" Jeff answered his cell phone absently, while looking at the plans spread out on the lounge table. He and all of his family, including the Beleghants, were grouped around the room in various pursuits, as was the usual after the evening meal. Jeff, Brains, and Virgil were looking at the new photo-blocking technology that Brains was working on when the ringing of the phone startled everybody. TinTin, Fermat and Gordon were playing a video game, Scott and John were playing cards, but everybody stopped at the expression on Jeff's face.

"Yes. You have? Are you certain? You ran it three times? And there is no doubt?" Jeff sank into a seat as though his legs had failed him.

"Where and when? Yes, I'll be there. Can you tell me more right now?" No? Okay, see you then." Jeff touched a button on this phone and set it absently on the table, staring off into distance, unseeing.

"Dad?" John moved to Jeff's side. "Is everything okay?"

The others were moving towards their father as well, as though drawn by a magnetic.

Jeff blinked and tried to speak, shook his head as if to clear it, then spoke carefully and clearly as though he couldn't believe the words he was saying. "That was the New York Social Services Office. They've found Alan. He's alive."

TB TB TB TB TB

Jeff stood as Ellen Cooper, and her boss, Jerrilyn Johnson, from the New York Social Services Office were ushered into his office by Anne Marie, late in the afternoon. She firmly closed the door behind her as she left leaving the two women, Jeff, and John, and the family lawyer, Gerald Wells, standing in the center of the expansive office at the top of Tracy Towers with the incredible view of the city skyline.

Jeff indicated that they sit down at a spacious mahogany table near the window, and he and John followed. After introductions, Ellen just shook her head. "It's uncanny how much you look like him, John."

"Like who?" he asked confused.

"Like . .. . Alan." She pushed an 8x10 picture across the table. It was a school picture. The smiling, blond teenager looking out had to be related to John. The similarities were uncanny. His hair was a little more gold than John's more platinum, and his features a little studier, but the eyes and the smile were identical.

Both Tracy's caught their breath. "Wow," John managed to breath. "He looks just like Mom," he managed to say, looking with huge eyes at his father.

Jeff looked at the picture and shook his head in amazement. It was so close to the computer aged picture he had that it was nothing short of miraculous. "You're positive it's Alan," he stated.

"Yes. DNA doesn't lie. It was a perfect match in comparison to the samples you provided from the samples you had provided of Alan. We also cross matched between Lucille and yourself, just to be sure."

"Where is he? Where has he been?" Jeff had more questions than he knew how to frame.

"How he got into the system and remained unknown for so long is something that we'll have to look into. Nationwide identification is a problem, and it's something we'll research."

Gerald nodded. He already knew that he was tasked with this assignment. Jeff Tracy had made it clear that he wanted to know everything as to how, why and where. "I'll be available to assist you with that, both with funds and expertise."

Jerrilyn nodded. She wasn't surprised. Jefferson Tracy was not a man who would suffer incompetence where his family was concerned. That was why she was here, to make sure everything went as smoothly as possible. This was going to be very high profile and questions would be asked.

Ellen continued. "As for where he is? He's with a family here in New York."

"You're kidding," John blurted.

"No," Ellen said, with a sincere smile. This was one of the good parts of her job, reuniting families. But then she thought of the Markova family, and her smile faded a touch. "He's been with a very stable family situation for 10 years." As she proceeded to detail Alan's travels through the social system.

The men listening didn't interrupt as they heard a tale of a child who wouldn't speak, behavioral issues, some still lingering physical issues, and a solid family who put said child back together.

"We'll go into more detail later, and I'll make sure you have all the paper work, and work out the custody transfer, but I know you want to see him," Jerrilyn said with a smile. "As you know, we have made arrangements for his foster parents to bring him here, to Tracy Towers tomorrow morning. His foster family will tell him tonight, although they don't know who his parents are." Her smile faded. "You should know that To . ., I mean, Alan, is very close to his foster family, and they to him. They have been working to adopt him for several years. This will not be an easy transition for him, you need to be aware."

Jeff nodded. He had no doubt that they were close. But this was Alan. His youngest son. There was no chance that Alan was going to be anywhere else but with him. This would be one time where wealth and privilege would pave the way and make things easier.

After the meeting, Jeff and John headed up to the penthouse apartment at the top of the office building. Spacious and private, it was an oasis of privacy for the family when they were in town. Although they kept other apartments for their use and for visitors, this was the one that was frequented by family.

Heading immediately for the large screen TV, Jeff activated the vid phone, as John dropped onto the facing couch. It didn't take long before Scott, Gordon and Virgil were crowded around. Before a word was said, John held up the 8x10 8th grade school photo they'd been given of the boy who was Alan.

Gordon gave a low whistle as Scott started. "That . . ." He looked up at his father. "That's the kid who ran into me at the airport!" He exclaimed.

Jeff nodded with a smile. "Apparently he's been taking flying lessons, and is extremely gifted at it."

Scott grinned. "Well, there is proof right there."

"No kidding," Virgil muttered, leaning closer to the screen to see the picture. "When do we get to meet him?"

"John and I will meet him tomorrow morning. I asked to meet his foster parents as well," Jeff said.

"Is that wise?" Virgil asked quietly. "I mean, didn't they hope to adopt him?"

Jeff nodded seriously. "Yes. And apparently they are very attached to him."

"But he's a Tracy!" Gordon objected. "He's ours!"

Jeff held a hand up to still the protest. "I know, Gordon. He is a Tracy, and he'll be with us. But this will be hard on him, and on his foster parents. It won't be an easy transition."

TB TB TB TB TB

"They should be here in about 10 minutes. If you don't mind, I'll have Ellen go down and escort them up."

"I've already told Anne Marie to go down and escort them up as well. She can get them up here as privately as possible."

"Does Alan know?" John asked.

"Yes," Jerrilyn said, as Ellen headed downstairs to wait with Jeff's assistant, Anne Marie. "But he doesn't know who. Nor do the Markovas. All they know is that they are to meet Todd's father here."

A tense silence descended as the little group waited. Jeff leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed, staring blindly at the stunning view. John tapped his fingers in an obscure rhythm on the table top.

Finally Jerrilyn broke the silence. "Excuse me, Mr. Tracy, but I'm just curious. Why did you bring John with you to the meeting?"

"Why me, and not Scott?" John clarified laughing slightly.

Jeff smiled. "Because Scott can be pretty intimidating, and honestly, John looks so much like Alan and Lucy, that there could be no doubt of parentage."

At that, the phone buzzed, and apprehension filled the room. Jeff answered quickly, and just as quickly, hung up. "They're on they're way up," he announced.

TB TB TB TB TB

Todd looked around the spacious and tasteful lobby apprehensively. He wasn't sure why they were meeting here, but he did know he wanted no part of it. His parents were the Markov's, and that was that. He still couldn't believe how fast his life had been turned on its head. One moment he was worrying about getting his homework done for the next day, and now, he was pulled out of school to meet his 'real' family. Or father. Whoever he was.

The lobby was spacious and inviting, not at all intimidating like he'd thought it would be, given that it was Jefferson Tracy's building. That man had accomplished so much in his lifetime, that he was bound to be intimidating, Todd thought idly. Every school kid in the US knew his history. Every kid in the world, probably. Self made man, Air Force, NASA, Astronaut and Engineer that saved the moon mission, Inventor, and billionaire. And his sons? All in the same league. Decorated pilot & Medal of Honor winner, another was a NASA Astronaut who was a top astronomer as well, as well as a best selling author. Yet another was an artist and musician, as well as a top notch engineer who was behind many of the Tracy Enterprises cutting edge technology. Then, just to be different, the last was an Olympic Medal winning swimmer, as well as good with just about anything that had to do with under water exploration. Touched by the Gods as Michael had said many, many times.

Michael was a junkie for just about anything Tracy. He'd have to remember to tell him all about this place. The fact that apparently his biological father apparently worked here was going to send Michael in orbit, and Todd knew he'd get pumped for any information he could impart.

And that brought it all back once again. His Mom and Dad weren't going to be his legal parents. They'd all just assumed that it was a formality. After all, they'd been a family for so long, Todd hadn't thought about it being any other way. Not after those first traumatic years, anyway.

TB TB TB TB TB

"Mr. and Mrs. Markova? Todd?" Ellen's familiar voice broke into the quiet reverie that all three individuals had been indulging. She indicated to the older woman standing next to her, smiling. "This is Anne Marie Watkins. She's going to escort us up."

Without saying anything, they nodded with tight smiles, and followed them to an unobtrusive elevator, over behind the security desk. None of the Markova family asked any questions. So much was going on, that emotions were swirling about them, and the questions they thought they should have asked, when they thought back on it later, were far from their minds.

Todd stayed close to the only parents he'd ever really known on the silent ride up in the high speed elevator. He was curious, yes, but not enthusiastic. He was hoping that he'd still be able to stay with the Markovas. But he really didn't know. Nobody was telling him anything.

The elevator opened out onto another lobby, much smaller this time. And clearly a working lobby. Work stations were scattered around the nice looking, but clearly functional space. There were no people around, much to the Markova family's surprise. One door opened onto a conference room, another to a tastefully appointed office. Other closed doors were around the room. This lobby was a clear hub, and given the papers and coffee cups around, one that was normally busy. Just now it was deserted.

Anne Marie Watkins led them across the room to a set of closed double doors directly across from the elevator. Tapping lightly, she opened the door before getting a response. She looked in, and said, "Jeff. They're here," to the occupants, then opened the door wide, inviting them in with a smile.

The last of the group, Todd made his way in, taking in the huge room, the elegant cherry furniture, the small conference table in front of the window, and lastly, the people. There was a woman at the table. Todd knew her. She worked with Ellen, but he couldn't remember her name. She stood up smiling as they entered. Jefferson Tracy himself stood in front of the desk, sitting back on the edge of it, arms crossed, and head down. He looked up, his intense eyes searching their faces as they all entered. Todd knew that the man himself would be here, Ellen had told him that he was helping to facilitate this. Todd guessed it was because his father worked for him.

A third man, who had been sprawled in a guest chair in front of the desk, stood up quickly upon their entrance, and gasped as Todd entered. Looking at him, Todd recognized John Tracy. He looked quickly around the room again, trying to spot his father. The last man in the room was standing up from his seat by the conference table, buttoning his suit jacket as he stood. Was this his father? He seemed pretty old. And he didn't look like he was delighted to see him. So where was his father? Would he be coming up later? Todd's attention was brought back to the Tracy family members, who were now smiling widely.

"Hello, Alan," Jeff Tracy said with a warm smile.

And Todd realized, with sudden horror, that the Tracy patriarch was looking directly at him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Todd felt as if the world had stopped. Alan? They thought he was Alan Tracy? The missing (or dead, depending on which story you believed) youngest son of Jeff Tracy? Were they mental? For a second, he wanted to laugh. Only . . . . everybody around him (with the exception of his parents) were smiling, and the two Tracys in front of him looked as though their world had just been completed.

"You look just like your mother," Jeff Tracy said softly, trying hard to control his emotions and not scare the already clearly nervous youngster.

"Wait," Todd stuttered, "You think I'm Alan Tracy? There has to be some mistake. I can't be. I mean . . ." He finally sputtered to a stop. looking at the faces around him. He felt his father squeeze his shoulder in support, while his mother stepped closer to him.

"No, Alan. There isn't a mistake," the woman who worked with Ellen commented.

Jerrilyn, her name was Jerrilyn, Todd suddenly remembered. Ellen's boss. "But there has to be," Todd said, eyes huge, looking at her. "Alan Tracy is dead. And I'm not. I mean, I can't be. I . . . I don't remember anything . . . " He trailed off, uncertainly clear in his tone and expression.

Jeff longed to reach out and hug him close, but to do so now would just overwhelm the already upset teen. "We'd never gotten proof. We'd never found a body. And there had been stories of a man digging Alan . . . you, out of the avalanche. So I've always hoped, and I've never stopped looking. And DNA doesn't lie. Jerrilyn ran the test three times. Your DNA matched perfectly. We had it run a few times, using different samples. I could go into the science of it, but there isn't a need. There is no doubt at all. You are my son, Alan Shepard Tracy." Jeff finished with a soft smile, as he looked at his youngest son. He had all the time in the world now to get to know him. Alan was alive, and he was right here.

Leaning against his parents, both physically and figuratively, Todd shook his head, truly overwhelmed. "But I thought DNA had been run before. A couple of times." He looked around, eyes huge, to his parents for their confirmation. Marlena hugged him close, an arm around his waist.

It was all John could do to watch the interplay. He should have been hugging Alan, giving him reassurance, not these strangers. John could remember so well seeing his baby brother with their mother, playing with him on the carpet of the Kansas farm house, helping Scott corral him and keep him out of trouble once he'd outgrown his playpen. All the memories came crashing back as he looked into the wide eyed young teen before him. He knew it was Alan. He could feel it all the way to his bones. This was his youngest brother.

"We did have the DNA run, Todd. Twice before, as a matter of fact. It came back negative," Marlena said quietly, a hint of tears in her voice.

"Maybe it's a mistake this time," Todd said desperately, voice breaking slightly, "You know, what do they call it? A false positive?"

"I'm afraid not," Jerrilyn said, real sympathy in her voice. "We couldn't find the reports on the first two tests. No paperwork anywhere. Nobody could tell us where it had gone. The labs had no records, nothing. That's why it had to be run again."

"This time I literally hand carried the sample down myself," Ellen put in, "And went down and picked up the test. And I have a copy right here." She waved a paper. "That's why we had it done again. At our lab, and then Mr. Wells had it run independently at another lab. There is no mistake."

"Then what about the original tests?" Todd asked, bewildered.

"That's what I want to find out," Jeff Tracy growled, causing Todd to step back involuntarily. Jeff moderated his tone, and continued. "Somebody, somewhere, lost the original tests, or falsified the data. And I want to know who. And why." The steel in his voice was that of the man who walked on the moon, jerry-rigged the space capsule to get them home, built a business up from nothing to worldwide dominance, and grew up on the Kansas farmlands, helping his father pull a living from the land. It was the voice of a man who would not be thwarted. And he would not be denied from knowing who had separated him from his youngest son for nearly 11 years.

"And that will be my job," said the cultured voice of Gerald Wells. He smiled, but like Jeff Tracy, it held a hint of steel.

But by now, Todd was shaking his head, absolutely stunned. "It can't be," he said softly, more out of desperation, than of denial.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," Marlena said softly, wrapping her arms around him, and turning to face him. "Mr. Tracy has been looking for you for a long, long time."

"But I have a family," Todd said desperately, clearly on the brink of tears.

"I know," Marlena said again, softly, just for Todd and her husbands ears. "And we love you. It will all work out. We will always be here for you. Always. Never, ever forget that. And Mr. Tracy clearly loves his sons deeply as well. And he's never let go of you. You need to give this a chance. So let's just go one day at a time, shall we?"

"But I don't want to," Todd said in a nearly inaudible whisper. "I want to go back home with you."

"And we'd like nothing better," Thomas said sadly. "Mr. Tracy is your father, and he's been searching for you."

Jeff watched the small trio speaking quietly. They all remained silent, allowing the group as much privacy as the room allowed. Watching Alan, well, Todd, as they called him, with his foster parents told him how close they were, and how difficult this separation was on all of them. But he'd lost Alan too, early on. He wasn't going to let him go again. Alan may hate him for it for a while, but time would cure a lot.

As he studied the trio, he decided this needed to be done quickly. "John, why don't you show Alan the apartment? I'd like to talk to the Markovas."

John nodded and moved towards Alan. Marlena and Thomas separated themselves and nodded encouragingly towards their foster son. Todd allowed himself to go and looked back at them desperately for a moment, before disappearing with John.

As soon as the door shut, Jeff indicated that they should all move to the table. After they'd all taken their seats, he looked at them seriously. "I'm sorry," he said, meaning it. It was clear that they were devastated.

Thomas grabbed Marlena's hand under the table and squeezed it tight, both for support for himself, and to bolster her. She managed to nod, not able to speak. Thomas cleared his throat, and answered rather hoarsely, "Thank you. It's . . . very hard."

Jeff nodded sympathetically. As glad as he was to finally have Alan back, there were no winners here.

Ellen spoke up. "Did you bring his suitcase?"

"Yes. But he still doesn't know that he is staying," Thomas said.

"Good. I know that is hard, but in the long run, it will be easier," Jerrilyn said gently.

"I know," Thomas said softly, digging out the keys to the car and handing them to Ellen. He told her where he'd parked, and she headed off to collect Todd's things.

"What do I need to know?" Jeff asked. There was no easy way to do this, except start.

"He loves to fly," Marlena said, a fond smile on her face as she thought about her foster son.

"Anything fast," Thomas added, exchanging smiles with his wife. "If I'd let him, he'd be driving the car right now, the faster the better. Dirt bikes, bicycles, basically anything with wheels and if it has an engine, that's even better."

Jeff had to grin. That sounded like any son of his, that was for sure.

"He's very clever," Marlena added. "If it can be fit together and made to work better, Todd . . . Alan, would do it. He's fixed things in the restaurant that are working better than they did when they were new. He's very smart, but not a fan of schoolwork. You have to stay on top of him for that."

They were still speaking when Ellen returned with a suitcase. She joined the rest at the table, and listened until the couple wound down. Once they had finished, she spoke.

"I know you've read the files, Mr. Tracy, but you need to know that Alan is still somewhat . . . fragile, I guess, for lack of the right word."

Jeff frowned. "In what way? The files were not very specific."

Ellen nodded towards the Markova's, indicating that they should elaborate.

Marlena began. "When he came to us, he was four. He wouldn't speak, and we weren't sure that he could. We knew that he'd been in some-kind of severe trauma, but no details were given other than it had been an accident. He'd been with a foster family in the Midwest, and they had surrendered him as they couldn't handle him."

Ellen spoke up here. "He was surrendered back to us when the family was heading out of the country. But they said they couldn't deal with him anymore. He wouldn't speak, but would have massive tantrums, and just wouldn't be calmed for hours. The head injury was healing but still so severe that they weren't sure what kind of damage would be permanent. He had severe separation anxiety, yet was physically abusive to anybody who tried to calm him. He'd bite, kick, hit, basically anything he could to get free.

"The tantrums didn't seem to have a trigger, he'd just lash out. And the physical injuries were severe and long lasting. Both legs had been broken, and badly. He walked with a noticeable limp for a long time. Trauma to the head and torso, a badly dislocated shoulder, well, basically consistent with an avalanche, now that we know." Ellen shrugged. "The social workers at that time put it down as trauma from abuse, and his behavior backed it up. There are huge holes in the records. What can I say."

Jeff thinned his lips and nodded. One more thing to look into. Who could have done this to him and his family? "Did any of the records that came with him show where he came from?" He asked, knowing from his research that the answer was no.

Ellen shook her head. "No. The office in the Midwest that we tracked him down to originating from had burned down. All the records were gone. All we had was what came to us from the last foster family." She continued. "Physically, Alan is much better. Apparently there had been some medical treatment and surgeries in the Midwest, but the records are incomplete."

Thomas finished up. "Marlena and I had Todd . . . I mean, Alan, in swimming lessons from the time he came to us, as we had been told that would be the best physically for him. I run every morning, and when he began to really settle in, Alan began coming with me. It's been a habit with us now for years. Both swimming and running have helped him tremendously. Now, you can't tell that he had anything wrong with his legs. His left arm still has some limited mobility, and we've never been able to get funding for the surgery to correct the problem."

"He stills limps slightly when he's very tired. He also still has severe migraine headaches from time to time," Marlena added. "Although nobody has been able to tell us if that is from the head injury or hereditary."

Jeff nodded. He was getting the picture. Alan was stable with the Markovas. The behavioral problems had lessened with the stability of his home situation. He knew he could expect some backsliding, but he could deal with it. As for physical issues? Well, he had access to the best medical help money could buy, and he would make use of it.

As they finished up, and the Markova's stood to go, Marlena asked if she could call in the morning to check on Alan.

Jeff was torn. He wanted his son to himself. All to himself. Alan was his son, not these peoples'. But he owed a huge debt to them, and he knew it. And it wasn't fair to cut Alan off from the only support he'd ever known. Sighing, he finally said, "As hard as it is for me, it will be best for Alan if he stays in touch with you, I think."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw both Jerrilyn and Ellen visibly relax. He continued. "But please, give me some time to form a bond with him. Give me a call on my private cell phone. Call me each morning. We'll play it by ear for the first few days, then we'll set up some kind of schedule. How is that?"

Thomas and Marlena both relaxed for the first time that afternoon. "Thank you. It would be devastating to be cut out of his life," Thomas said.

"Can I call you if I have questions?" Jeff inquired.

"Of course," Thomas answered, and they all exchanged phone numbers. After that, Jeff was left alone in his office, and for the first time, allowed himself just to wonder. Wonder at Alan's return, at the amazing luck he'd had to be with the Markova's, that he'd been found, that he was ALIVE at all, and that Jeff had him home again. Sighing, he forced himself to relax, then headed for the penthouse to get to know his son.

"Whoa!" Todd exclaimed as they entered the Penthouse from the private elevator. He'd wondered at the security in the elevator. The keypad to access the small, discrete door just outside Jeff Tracy's office, the thumbprint scanner inside it, and another keypad to exit. Now he understood.

They stood on a balcony that ran two sides of the spacious penthouse apartment at the very top of Tracy Towers. A set of suspended steps led down to the main living area where another entrance lay. John explained that it was another private elevator from a secured parking garage.

Huge floor to ceiling windows spanned two floors on two sides, opening the room up to the view of Manhattan. Even though the days was overcast, light spilled into the room, and the sense of brightness and space was all over. One of the glass walls enclosed an infinity pool, large enough for lap swimming. This must be for Gordon, the swimmer. Alan realized that the pool was 'inside' of the apartment, not outside. That just blew him away even more.

Wrenching his eyes away from the pool and the massive windows, he saw the wall to the right of where he stood was essentially a balcony. Doors opened off of it, and on the floor leave below. The wall to the left was white, floor to ceiling. A fireplace was prominent, and a huge video screen mounted next to it. And spanning from that level and sweeping upward, a massive painting dominated the white expanse. The artist had not only gotten the physical aspects right, but somehow had captured the feelings of awe and majesty of the great vastness over the bright horizon of the blue planet. John noticed him looking, as he guided Alan down the steps.

"Virgil's work. He did that for Dad for his birthday a few years ago. The Metropolitan Museum wanted to display it, but Dad refused to let it out of his sight. Virgil agreed." He laughed. "The museum was not very happy."

Todd looked sideways at the young man beside him. He'd just causally spoken about thwarting the Metropolitan Museum. What kind of world did they live in? Not one he knew about, that was for sure. He wandered closer to the vast painting, and stood looking up at it in awe.

The painting was really amazing. Everyplace you looked there was more to see.

"It's very accurate Astronomy-wise as well," John continued from next to him. "Virg and I spent a lot of time at the telescope on Tracy Island so that he could get it right. There isn't a square inch of that canvas that isn't correct. It could double as a star map, if necessary."

Todd felt his stomach tighten as he looked over the canvas. The moon was shown in incredible detail, as were the remaining planets off in the distance, captured in perfect perspective. He remembered that the man next to him, so placid and calm, was a world renowned Astronomer, and an author. Todd had all of his books. How was he supposed to live up to these people? He couldn't be a Tracy. He wasn't smart enough, that was for sure. Or gifted. He wasn't an artist, or a writer. He didn't even like school. What would happen when they realized that he couldn't be Alan Tracy?

Nudging him lightly, John spoke again. "How about going into the kitchen. Are you hungry? I am. I was so nervous this morning, I didn't eat breakfast."

Todd turned to him in surprise. "Nervous? Why were you nervous?" He asked in confusion.

John snorted. "Seriously? You think you were the only one nervous? How often do I get to meet a long lost little brother? Come on. I'm hungry." And with that he led the way into the kitchen.

Todd followed, snapping his jaw shut, which had fallen open in amazement. He hadn't thought much about their perspective.

The kitchen was on par with the rest of the place. Gleaming stainless steel appliances, and a huge subzero refrigerator. Lots of counter space, and a huge walk in pantry. More of the big windows, taking advantage of the views. As John began to busy himself getting sandwiches, Todd ignored the big table in favor of hitching a hip on one of the bar stools pulled up to the counter.

"This is huge!" He exclaimed, looking around in amazement. "Does Mr. Tracy do a lot of entertaining up here? Is that why he needed something so bit?"

John paused for a moment. "Mr. Tracy?" He grinned, obviously amused. "No, Dad," he emphasized, "Doesn't ever entertain here. We have such a big kitchen because we go through a lot of groceries. Scott eats like a horse. There aren't any leftovers, ever, because Scott is like a scavenger when it comes to food. Virgil is just about as bad, and Dad can keep up with them. When Gordie is training, he can keep up as well. We go through A LOT of food," he finished, laughing, as he brought a plate over to Todd, as well as one for himself.

Todd looked at the big sandwich, piled with meats, cheeses and and vegetables. Clearly they didn't stint in the Tracy family. Just looking at it made him famished. They both dug in and conversation was suspended as they ate. They were on seconds, when Jeff Tracy joined them.

"Food? I'm starving!" Jeff announced, as he shed his suit jacket and looked over at them.

"Told ya," John laughed as he pushed the second half of his sandwich towards his father, and stood up to go make more.

"I'll make my own," Jeff protested, but John cut him off.

"I've really eaten my fill. I'll make you another. Get started."

Alan had stopped mid bite, and looked uncertainly at his . . . Father.

Jeff smiled gently. "Keep eating, we don't stand on ceremony around here when it's family."

Alan swallowed the bite that had turned into a lump, and began to breath again.

When they had finished, Jeff steered them into the high ceiled great room and dropped tiredly onto the couch, loosening his tie. John collapsed into another arm chair as Jeff waved Alan into another.

"You must have a lot of questions for us," Jeff said with a smile as Alan settled tentatively in another big chair.

Todd just shook his head, clearly overwhelmed.

Jeff just smiled gently at him, saying, "Okay, how about I tell you about us? Let you know who we are?"

Todd/Alan nodded gratefully, and slowly began to relax as Jeff Tracy told him quietly about his family. Soon Jeff was joined by John, who added his own droll observations, as old family stories were pulled out for a new audience, and the newest family member began to join in tentatively, asking questions, smiling at the laughter, and growing interested in spite of himself, especially as the photo albums came out.


End file.
